After the War
by thetimeladyswan
Summary: "I've pretended that I was over him dying … Fred."    George tries to rebuild his life after the war, with some help from Angelina. Title sucks, I might change it. One-shot. George/Angelina


_The first time I've written from George(and Angelina)'s POV. I've been wanting to write some George/Angelina for a while._

_Disclaimer: The amazing JKR owns Harry Potter, not me._

* * *

><p>They were drawn together effortlessly.<p>

She was the only one who he could talk to about Fred, and not even think much about it.

"So how's everyone?" Angelina asked one afternoon in late June, over coffee at the Leaky Cauldron.

"All right, I guess," George replied. "I haven't seen Percy out of his room yet."

"He still blames himself?"

"Yup. Ginny keeps trying to make him come downstairs, but the rest of us have all given up."

There was a silence as Angelina unwrapped a muffin with a thoughtful expression.

"You should talk to him," she said unexpectedly.

"What?"

"He'd listen to you," she continued. "Since you're the one who's left twin-less."

George shrugged. "Maybe. I mightn't even be around much longer?"

"Why?" Angelina asked thickly, her mouth full of muffin.

"I was thinking of opening up the shop again," he explained. "Ron and Ginny're still running the owl order for me, but it's not the same."

Angelina swallowed. "D'you need help? Verity and Johnny quit, didn't they?"

George sighed. "Yeah. They got sick of waiting for me to open up again. Ron's already offered. And Ginny said she would if she didn't have to go back to Hogwarts."

"Ron offered to help?" Angelina asked in surprise.

George nodded. "He said he kind of enjoyed doing the owl order. I think Hermione's going to help too."

"She always came across as disapproving," said Angelina, peeling crumbs from her muffin wrapper.

"She likes to help," said George, shrugging again.

"When's she arriving, anyway?"

"Day after tomorrow. And I think Harry's coming next week."

"So the house'll soon be full again," said Angelina.

"All the more reason for me to get out of there, sharpish."

Angelina laughed. "They're that bad?"

"Yup."

More silence. Angelina drained the last of her coffee.

"I'd better head off," she said. "Remember what I said."

"About what?"

She shook her head slightly as she got to her feet. "About talking to Percy."

"Right. See you."

"Bye."

She left.

* * *

><p>"Where's Mum and Dad?" George asked when he arrived home to find Ron and Ginny sitting at the kitchen table, reading a long letter (from Hermione) together.<p>

"Diagon Alley," said Ginny, without looking up. "Went with Charlie."

"Can't be, I would've noticed them," said George, frowning.

Ginny reached the end of the letter and looked up, grinning. "Well you were probably too wrapped up with your date."

George rolled his eyes as he sat at the table. "We're _mates, _Ginny."

"Of course you are."

"Percy show his face yet?"

"Nope," Ron answered, looking up too.

"I brought him up some tea, but he just said, 'thanks, but I'm fine'," said Ginny sadly.

"He's hardly fine," said Ron, now on his feet and rummaging in the cupboard for something. "He hasn't eaten for two days."

"He still blames himself."

"I know."

They lapsed into silence, and soon after George departed.

* * *

><p>Ginny popped her head round the door.<p>

"Dinner's ready," she said.

"Ok. Thanks," said George, heaving himself to his feet and going downstairs to the kitchen. Ginny and Percy's seats were empty, and a few moments later Ginny entered and flopped down on her chair, looking dejected.

"I don't see why you don't give up," said Ron, cutting up his potatoes.

Charlie snorted. "She'll never give up. D'you not know your own sister?"

Ron, his mouth now full to bursting (as usual) merely shrugged.

George finished eating much quicker than any of the others, and went back upstairs without a word. He'd see if Angelina's advice was worth anything.

The door did not open when George knocked on it, so he pushed it open anyway. Percy looked up. He was sitting on his bed, and he looked terrible. His face was dirty, there were purple bags under his eyes, and there was a gash on his cheek, a relic from the Battle.

"What?" he asked softly.

George's eyes know roved over the room. It was messy, things thrown haphazardly around the room, and tiny pieces of something silver littered the floor, glistening in the sunlight. A second glance told him that it was a badge. Percy's Prefect Badge, judging by the fact that Percy held the Head Boy Badge in his hand.

"… You've taken it even worse than me, haven't you?" George asked slowly.

Percy nodded, and turned his head away.

"Stop blaming yourself," said George. "We blame you as much as we blame _Harry._"

"If I hadn't made that stupid jo—"

"There's no point thinking about 'if's," said George firmly. "It's not going to do any good."

Silence.

"I still _feel _like it's my fault," said Percy finally.

"Well it's not," said George. "I blamed myself too, at first … but then I realised that Fred would have basically disowned me if he was still alive and saw me so miserable … he wouldn't want you to be blaming yourself, either."

"Bu—"

"You think I didn't know my own twin?"

"Of course not, b—"

"Then _don't blame yourself._ Goodbye."

The next morning, Percy was at breakfast.

* * *

><p>"You were right," said George, piling more boxes onto the shelf.<p>

"About what?" Angelina asked distractedly, searching around the shop.

"About talking to Percy. He's eating properly again."

"Well, always follow my advice and you'll never go wrong," said Angelina, still turning the place over. "Where's your Pygmy Puff food. The poor things are starving ..."

"Behind the counter," said George, summoning some more of the Skiving Snackboxes that lay on the floor and stacking them on the shelves.

The door opened, and instead of tinkling, the bell laughed hysterically.

"Hey Hermione," said Angelina, pouring food into a feeding bowl and giving it to the Pygmy Puffs.

"Hi," said Hermione, with a smile. "I've come to help," she added unnecessarily.

"Excellent, said George, looking around with his arms still full of Nosebleed Nougat. "Well, you could go and see if Ron's actually doing anything –"

"Oi! I heard that!" called an indignant voice.

"– he's in the back room," George continued, as though there had been no interruption. "And you could make us a cuppa. And have one yourself."

"Sure," Hermione smiled, going into the back room. She emerged when George had placed the last Skiving Snackbox on its shelf, and jumped down from the ladder.

"Sugar?" she asked them.

"No thanks," said Angelina.

"One," said George.

"Okay," said Hermione, disappearing upstairs to the flat.

There was silence until Ron emerged from the back room.

"Finished!" he said triumphantly.

"Us too," George grinned.

"We'll go up and have tea, then?"

The other two agreed, and they climbed the stairs.

Hermione was poking her wand at an ancient kettle, which finally began to bubble.

"You should get a new kettle," she said, sorting out mugs. "That one's broken."

"Could you not fix it with your amazing magic skills?" George asked, flopping down on the sofa.

"I did," said Hermione, directing her wand at a milk bottle, which poured some into each of the mugs. "But it won't stay mended for long."

"What a tragedy," George yawned.

Hermione made a face, but turned her back on him, and poured out tea. Three mugs floated through the air towards Angelina, George and Ron, a sugar bowl, complete with spoon, trailing Fred's, and Hermione raised her own, taking a sip.

"Is the shop nearly ready to go?" she asked interestedly.

"Yup," said George, heaping a spoon of sugar into his tea. "With any luck, it'll be reopened in two days."

"Two days?" Hermione repeated. "Will you have enough time to publicise it?"

"I'll just bum a notice in the window," said George dismissively.

"So do I have a job?" Angelina asked, from where she sat on the arm of an armchair.

"Yup. You too Ron."

"Do you need any more help for the reopening? It'll be busy, I expect," Hermione offered.

"That'd be great, thanks Hermione."

"No problem. I'm bored at the house."

"Why? Where's Ginny?" Angelina asked.

"She's gone into Muggle London with Neville and Luna," said Hermione.

"And Charlie and Percy are gone too," said Ron.

"Ah well, you won't be bored with us," said George with a never-to-be-trusted grin.

* * *

><p>"I am ready to <em>die<em>," Hermione groaned, sinking into an armchair in George's flat, where she, George, Angelina, Ron and Ginny, who they'd persuaded to help, had gathered after the shop had closed after its first day open again.

"Well, not die, but sleep for days," said Ginny.

"At least we got loads of money," said George, handing around glasses of Firewhisky to everyone. "And I've got job applicants."

"What's wrong with us?" said Ron indignantly.

"Not you. Hermione and Ginny."

"And what's wrong with _us_?" Ginny demanded fiercely.

"You'll be gone to Hogwarts soon enough," said George matter-of-factly, drinking some Firewhisky.

"True," Hermione murmured.

"Don't worry, I'll pay you for tonight," George told the two girls. "More than I usually would; you did loads."

"Too right we did," said Ginny, slipping off her shoe to rub her foot.

"I think we'd better go," said Ron, setting down his glass of Firewhisky.

"Yeah," said Ginny, putting her shoe back on. "Mum'll be going spare about us."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny rose, bade goodbye to George and Angelina, and went downstairs. The latter decided that she had better head home too, and followed.

* * *

><p>Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes did extremely well in its first week open again. Everyone was so delighted at having it back that they barely left the place alone, as though worried that it would close again.<p>

"Angelina!"

"What?"

she jerked her head off her arms.

"Are you ok?" Henry, one of the newly hired staff, asked in concern.

"Of course I am," said Angelina, with an unconvincing smile.

"You sure?" Henry persisted.

"_Yes. _Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just you've been ignoring customers. Ariel's having trouble with them all."

He gestured towards the flustered brunette who was trying to explain to a first-year that he didn't have enough money to buy everything he had dumped on the counter.

"Sorry,"

"Don't worry about it," Henry smiled, drifting off to help a group of fifth years.

Angelina sighed, and stood up straight behind the counter, ready to serve the crowd of people that lined up.

It was the first, but not the last time she was asked that question.

"Angie? Angelina? Can you hear me?"

"What?"

"Are you all right?"

"Course."

"Course _not, _you mean," said George. "What's up?"

"Where's everyone?" Angelina asked

"Gone home, I've been trying to get through to you for the past five minutes. I've got your wages."

He handed her a sack of galleons.

"Thanks," she said gloomily. "But I doubt this'll do much good."

"What's up?"

"I need a flat," said Angelina.

"Wha—?"

"My dear old Mum and Dad chucked me out," Angelina sighed.

"What? Why?"

"Said they should've done it ages ago," she said. "That I was sponging off them too much. Said I had a job; I'd be able to stand on my own two feet."

"Well stay here," said George.

She blinked at him in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Deffo. I won't be paying you for a while, though."

She hugged him.

"Thanks a million, George! You're a godsend. When can I move in?"

"Now, I suppose … didn't your parents chuck you out?"

"They're not _that _cruel," said Angelina, when she'd released them. "I've got a few days to sort out where I'm staying."

"Well, go get your stuff. You don't mind Fred's room, d'you?"

"You two stayed in different rooms?" she said incredulously. "How did you survive?"

"Barely, I assure you," George smirked.

"No, I don't mind having his room," said Angelina, and she disapparated without another word.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, George went up to his flat to tidy his twin's old bedroom.

* * *

><p>"You <em>sure <em>you're just mates?" Ginny smirked. "You're letting her live with you and everything …"

"Her parents chucked her out, where else was she going to stay? And yes, I'm sure," George stuck his tongue out at his sister, who stuck hers out at him.

"Stop being so childish," said Hermione from behind the _Daily Prophet._

"Of course, your majesty," George snorted.

She fixed him with a glare, but turned a page in the paper and continued to read.

"Why are you two even here, ruining my lunch?" he asked.

"Oh, thanks," said Ginny. "We wanted to come and see you. But if our random acts of kindness are being ignored …"

"Shut up, Gin," George yawned, finishing his coffee and heading back downstairs.

"Can I take my lunch now?" Ariel asked, when George slid in behind the counter.

"Course. Get gone."

She smiled and went into the back to get her coat.

It was a quiet day, and was welcome. Henry and Ariel left early due to the lack of work.

"Boring, isn't it?" Angelina murmured. "Ah well … I'm not complaining. Give us a break …"

George nodded lazily.

There were exactly five customers after lunch, and George ended up closing early.

"Wonder where everyone is …" he murmured.

Angelina shrugged.

* * *

><p>"George," Ariel had appeared out of nowhere. "There's someone in the shop looking for you."<p>

George followed Ariel out into the rapidly emptying shop. She came to halt in front of a woman with short blonde hair; Verity.

"Hello," said George stiffly.

"Hi," she said nervously.

"Look," she added, after an extremely awkward pause, during which Ariel watched them in surprise. "I'm sorry."

"You'd better be. I was _relying _on the staff I had to help me open up this place again! But no, you got sick of waiting. My twin _died, _Verity. What did you expect me to do; continue on as normal, with a huge grin on my face? Do you have _any idea_ what I went through? And then to discover than my staff had left me. Did you persuade Johnny to go too?"

"No," she said. "I had nothing to do with th—"

"And now you've come back," said George. "What for?"

"To beg for my job back," she said quietly.

"No."

"At least hear her out?" Ariel asked.

"We've got enough staff," said George stiffly.

"Actually, you don't," said Ariel.

"What?"

"Ron wants to be an Auror," she smiled. "So he'll be going."

"How come he hasn't told me?" George demanded. "I'm his _brother!_"

"He couldn't find you," said Ariel calmly.

George turned back to Verity. "Right. You've got five minutes to persuade me to give you your job back."

* * *

><p>"You don't trust her at all, do you?" Angelina asked over breakfast the next morning.<p>

"Not really," George shrugged. "But we were great friends a while ago, and I guess everyone deserves a second chance."

"And we need somebody to do Ron's work once he's gone."

"Yeah, but he didn't really do a lot, so her job'll only be part-time."

Angelina shot him a reproachful look. "Why d'you always insult your siblings?"

"My way of showing my affection," he grinned. "Anyway, I'd better go open up …"

He jumped up from the table, taking another slice of toast with him, and went downstairs. Henry was already there, sitting on a stool behind the counter, but he hadn't opened.

"What're you doing here already?" George asked, flicking his wand towards the door so that it unlocked and the sign switched to 'open'.

"My brother was wreaking havoc," Henry shrugged.

He had two brothers and a sister, George knew that much.

"Which one?" he asked curiously.

"Ben. He put beetles in my porridge."

George sniggered. "How old is he?"

Henry looked down. "Well, he … he's my twin."

"Oh."

After that, the resolve that George had built up after Fred's death started to crumble.

* * *

><p>Angelina opened her eyes. She lay there, confused as to why she had woken up so suddenly, then she sat up. There was a chink of light under the door, and she could hear noise coming from the sitting room.<p>

Sliding out of bed, she pulled on her dressing gown and went, barefoot, into the sitting room to investigate.

George did not look around. He sat on the armchair that he had always, before then, avoided. In his hand he held an almost-empty bottle of Firewhisky.

"George?"

he looked up, and Angelina, startled, saw that his eyes were shining with tears, some of which had spilled over his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned, going over to sit on the arm of the chair.

"I've been stupid," said George in a hollow voice, sounding, remarkably, sober (it was a rather large bottle of Firewhisky).

Angelina, confused, waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.

"What d'you mean?" she asked.

"I've pretended that I was over him dying …. Fred."

He sighed heavily, took a long draught of Firewhisky, and placed the bottle on the floor by his feet.

"… and you think I am?" Angelina asked softly. "You think your siblings are? You think any of us ever will be? At least properly …"

George shook his head slowly. "But at least you weren't living a lie."

"You weren't living a lie," she said. "You were trying to move on. It was the bravest thing to do."

There was a long silence that seemed to last an age. Angelina had opened her mouth to say something else when a pair of lips met her own, effectively silencing her.

When they broke apart, George looked horror-struck. "I'm sorry, Angie, I didn't mea—"

"Don't be," she said, kissing him again. Then she smiled. "I'll make you some coffee."

* * *

><p>"'<em>Just mates<em>,'" Ginny teased, grinning.

"Shut up."

It was three days later. George had gone to the Burrow for lunch, and Ginny had been teasing him restlessly since he stepped through the door.

"Well I think it's lovely," said Hermione, after she had swallowed a bite of roll. "You seem much happier now."

"It's weird, though," Ron chipped in. "You haven't forgotten that she used to go out with Fred …?"

Hermione elbowed her 'boyfriend' (everybody knew they were together, but they hadn't said anything to confirm or deny it) and shot him a reproachful look.

"I don't think it matters," George said. He _had _thought of that, before, but then decided that it wouldn't _really _be a problem. Fred wouldn't have wanted them to miserable, and, apart, they had been much closer to that than they were now.

Harry came into the kitchen. "Hi George. I didn't realise you were here. How are you?"

"Great, thanks," George replied.

"Thanks to Angelina," Ginny said, teasing him again.

"Shut up," George repeated.

* * *

><p>Things got better for everyone. Ron eventually left Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes to join Harry in Auror training (he had been delaying for a long time, but finally gone); Harry and Ginny (George got to tease Ginny instead), Ron and Hermione (with no surprises) and Neville and Luna (with many) announced that they were together; Verity proved herself; Hermione, Ginny and Luna went back to Hogwarts and George and Angelina went to visit Fred's grave on numerous occasions.<p>

"There's a first," Angelina murmured one blustery September afternoon, after they'd come back from the graveyard.

"First what?" George asked distractedly, as he was making tea.

"I don't even feel that sad anymore … I know he'd be happy about that."

George nodded, handing her a mug. "Yeah, he would."

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you still unhappy?"

"Not that much," he said, ignoring her look of curiosity.

* * *

><p>"Hi Fred."<p>

George kneeled down beside the headstone. He did not read it. He knew what the message etched on it said.

_In Loving Memory of:_

_Fred Weasley_

_1978 – 1998_

_Prankster, twin, brother and son_

_There are fewer laughs in the world without him_

"No Angelina today," he murmured. "She's gone out with Alicia … Ginny wrote to me. I didn't think she would … says Hermione's already stressing about exams. She'll never change, will she?"

He laughed a little.

"Anyway, Fred … I wanted to ask you something …" George sighed heavily, and, it would seem, absent-mindedly, fumbled in his pocket. He pulled out the ring box, opened it, glanced at the glittering ring, and stowed it back in his pocket. "… I want to propose."

* * *

><p>"Where've you been?" Ariel, Henry and Verity chorused, as soon as George had entered the shop again.<p>

"Graveyard," George muttered. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"Right, well; we've barely been able to manage. So, in future, pick another time than Angie's day off, please," said Ariel, as he shrugged off his jacket.

"Oi. Don't boss me," he said, thought it was in a slightly playful manner.

"What took you so long anyway?" she asked. When he looked down she grinned.

"Aww c'mon George," she said. "You can tell me."

"And why can I tell you?" he asked sceptically. "That's fifteen galleons," he added to a girl. She handed over the gold.

"Because I'm a secret-keeping kind of girl," Ariel grinned.

"Can I get service?"

"Sure," Ariel said, turning to smile at the grumpy customer.

… maybe it would do him good to tell somebody who wasn't dead …

"So …" Ariel said, after she had cheerily waved the disgruntled customer out of the shop. George looked at her. She was a pretty girl he'd glimpsed a few times during his years at Hogwarts. She was skinny, and had auburn hair spilling a long way down her back, and she always wore a wide smile. It was her bubbliness and sense of humor that had compelled George to give her the job at the shop.

"Don't tell any of the others," he murmured quietly. "_Especially _Angelina."

"Got it," Ariel grinned, waiting expectantly. The customers, seeing them talking, had moved over to be served by Henry and Verity.

"I'm gonna propose."

"That's awesome!" Ariel whispered.

George smiled, and turned towards the customers again.

* * *

><p>"You made dinner?" Angelina asked, sitting at the table. "Thanks."<p>

"How's Alicia? Did she get into Quidditch yet?"

Angelina nodded. "She's with Puddlemere United."

"With Oliver?" George asked.

"Yup. They're going out now."

"Unexpected," George raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know."

They lapsed into silence for a while, and then George said, "Thanks."

"For what?" Angelina asked, holding her forkful of lasagne suspended in the air.

"For everything," George merely shrugged.

"Right back at you, then," she smiled.

Silence.

"I wanted to ask you something," George said, eventually plucking up the required courage.

"Shoot," Angelina murmured. She smiled, albeit confused.

He set the ring box on the table, and opened it.

"… will you marry me?"

She smiled. "… do I really have to answer?"

She put the ring on and kissed him.

Smiling she asked, "Sad now?"

"Not in the slightest."

* * *

><p><em>Finally! I started writing this ages ago. An idea born while I was lying awake. (My dad said that my granddad used to write things while he couldn't sleep. It's weird).<em>

_I think I have everyone OOC, and I apologize for that, but I loved the idea of George going to Fred's grave and just talking to him, sometimes with Angelina, sometimes without, and telling him first about his plans to propose. If Fred were alive, that would've been the case as well (if Angelina wasn't with Fred instead, of course)._

_So anyway, I'm finished. My first not-so-central character fic :)_


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